I long, I long, for the warmth of his hand in mine.
To feel his fingers twitch and perspire and gently tighten around the spaces between my fingers.
I long, I long, for the warm puffs of air to caress the back of my neck as they make their journey away from his mouth.
To know that even when the monsters called nightmares do their absolute worst, his lips are only a breath away, ready to save me.
I long, I long, for the warmth of his eyes.
To continually hold their chocolate heat with my own, warming my very heart with each bat of his lashes.